This That and Me Dad.

Looky what I got yesterday!

Here's the love train that brought it to me....

Sandy and Larry - she brought me some beautiful citrus too.

Oh, how I love citrus!!

I ate the wheat noodles - I had to believe that the love in the bowl cancelled out any negative effects.

I did have quite a belly ache last night though.

Worth it - I felt so loved.

This is all I accomplished yesterday.

I had books to read, but my head hurt too much to comprehend.

I do believe I have bronchitis and a side order of a sinus infection.

Wanted to give you an update on the burger.

It's not changing.

It's two weeks old today.

I keep seeing things on the interweb about McD's burgers - several years old that look just like mine.

I keep thinking I need to make a homemade burger for comparision.

I'm begging you to eat real food!

I wanted to say more about my father.

I had to say more.

I feel that I may have disrespected my beautiful father, and for my conscious sake - I need to say more.

My father was beautiful to behold.

He had a whole John Wayne vibe about him - and he was funny as heck.

He'd lose sleep over things like fussing at me for wasting paper, or when a stray cat that was hanging out by our back door went missing.

In fact - he had a dream about that cat, and that it was at a shelter - he went to the shelter and it was indeed there - he adopted it back out.

Goodness lived in that man's heart.

That's what's so sad about mental illness.  You can truly see that the real person is locked inside.

As I said in a previous post - I never knew my father to be anything but kind, peace loving and so extremely tender hearted toward us all.

The man took me to the Dairy Queen on Indianapolis Blvd. every single night after supper. 

 Just us two. 

 Large cone. 

Bring it Daddy! 

I have a stinkin' suspicion it's why DQ feels like love to me to this day.

He took one little brown pill a day that resembled an M&M and my mom kept them on the highest shelf in the pantry to keep us out of them.

He went for monthly counseling sessions.

He was really managing his illness well.

He was a carpenter at the steel mills on the South side of Chicago.

He used to holler out measurements in his sleep.

I still laugh thinking of it.

My mom said he'd grab her legs thinking they were two by fours while he'd holler out '4 and 3/4's'.

Now that's just funny - I don't care who ya are.

My father adored my mother, and my mother adored my father.

You know my mom - gracious - if you wanted to meet an incredible woman - look no further - she was incredible.  There's not enough that could be said about her goodness.

You know she never spoke a bad word to any of us about my father?

Never.

Truly it wasn't until 1988 when things started unraveling.

Mom noticed it right away - I just noticed dad seemed extra chatty.

There were happy times in between the hard times.

What I really wanted to share with you was this - a note that a dear friend - Peggy - sent to me after reading the blog.

Peggy was two years older than me - and really more of my sister's friend than mine - but she lived next door at was at our house often as a child.

We reconnected a few years ago when the local paper featured my blog and did an article about keeping backyard chickens.

We've become friends all over again.

The gifts that this blog has given me are numberless!

In all the years, days and hours I spent at your house as a child and young adult, I would never have imagined your father as anything but a sweet, naturally peaceful man. Despite the episode early on in their marriage, there is no doubt in my mind your mother and father were anything but utterly devoted to one another and the gaggle of girls they were raising in that oh, so tiny, oh so tidy English basement apartment.
My father's history is similar...only he never sought help...and as such, as you know, most of our days as children were a living nightmare.

I am glad my only memories of your childhood home are those of feeling the love in that little apartment and being embraced and accepted. Your father and I constantly teased one another and your mother was a role model for the patience and understanding i initially copied in the early years of raising my own family. I'm so happy, grateful and fortunate your family accepted and embraced me as a kid. It truly made a difference and helped shape me into the adult I am today. I love you, my friend. Namaste. Namaste. Namaste. The divine in me bows to the divine in you.

My father leaves a legacy.

It's not a legacy of insanity, it's not a legacy of hurt, or pain.

It's a legacy of goodness.

It's a legacy of love and humor and the strength of the human spirit.

When you mature enough to look past your own pain, and see the pain others carry and endure - it's most often a beautiful, haunting thing.

My father was beautiful, and I'm oh so glad he was my father.

I wouldn't have traded him for the world.

In the sixteen years that life was insanity - I would have traded the situation - but not him.

I do believe it all happened perfectly, and it's why I'm as compassionate as I am today.

Be kind to people.

We are all hurting or struggling with something.